Molly the Mechanic
by RegenbogenLolly
Summary: Even Sherlock the Great Machine has to break down at some point. Good thing Molly is there to help. Fluffy little one-shot. COMPLETE! :)


Sherlock looked down into the microscope before carefully taking notes on a sheet of paper. Molly, who had been noticing his behavior all morning, was growing concerned. He seemed distracted and sad. There was a distant look in his eyes, and the notes he was taking were the kind in which he would normally jot down within seconds. He never bothered to make his handwriting neat, much less did he ever allow himself to write so slowly. At first, she'd figured that maybe he was trying to write with his other hand, but he was right handed, and sure enough, he was writing with his right.

After a few more minutes of sad note taking and concerned noticing, Molly gave up trying to refrain from speaking. "Sherlock, are you-"  
"I'm fine, Molly." Well, at least the reply was a full senten- wait, his replies when he was working were never in full sentences. She put down her pen and turned towards him. "No, you're not."  
He leaned out of the microscope and looked at her, taken aback by your statement. He looked away for a second. "What?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers again.

Molly refused to back down, afraid for the well being of her friend. "I can tell that you're upset. And you have every right to be, I mean, you just faked your own death."  
"Molly-" his voice showed that he didn't want to speak of the matter any further.  
"You've had to leave your life. You can't take cases anymore, you can't see your flatmate, and everybody believes you're dead, except for one person. All you have is me."  
Sherlock's eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're out of work, and that you hate that. But it's given you time to contemplate your life, and you clearly think that nobody cares about you."  
"Molly, I-"  
"You shouldn't feel that way. You're so important. And there's always going to be someone who cares for you unconditionally."  
Sherlock stopped. "Who?"  
Molly paused, working up her nerve. "M..me," she said, blushing slightly. "No matter what, I'll always care about you, and protect you in any manner that I can. If there's ever anything I can do for you, I'll do it in a heartbeat, because I care. And no matter how much you pretend to operate like a machine, and no matter how much you don't like it, you're still human, and humans have to know that they're loved by at least somebody. As soon as you don't want me in your life, I can leave. When you rise from the dead, if you want nothing to do with me, it's okay. I understand. I just thought you should know that there's always somebody, no matter what you're thinking, and that person is me."

Suddenly, Sherlock turned sharply towards her and folded her into his arms, locking her in a tight embrace. "I... don't want you out of my life." She was befuddled by his awkward response, and was still a bit too stunned to move. She'd never heard Sherlock at a loss for a good statement, much less had she ever seen him hug anyone, let alone her. However, she definitely didn't object to it.

Slowly, she began to feel silly. She'd said what she'd wanted to say ever since she'd helped him with his fake suicide. In the back of her mind, she'd always felt that he was too much of a robot to have feelings, that he was some kind of superhuman who could deal with this. Any input she could give him would simply be deleted in his mind as soon as it came out of her mouth. It wouldn't be helpful.

But he'd started looking the same way he had before the fall: sad and alone. Even if he didn't want to hear anything, he needed to. Since she was the only one aware that he was alive, she would simply have to be the one to give him the words that anybody would need to hear. After all, even machines have breakdowns and need rebooting.

After a short silence, she forced herself to speak. "Whatever you need, just come to me, okay? Don't suffer alone." Sherlock pulled away, seeming to notice what he'd just done. He straightened his suit jacket and nodded. "Um... thank you." He then went back to his work, this time working quickly and diligently, soon absorbed in his work.

She smiled. _I suppose this makes me his mechanic._

* * *

**It's been a while! Sorry about that. There's not really an excuse, just a really long and irritating case of writers block. This is just a little one-shot; it was going to be a chapter in the next project I'm writing (the prequel to 'Obvious', comes right after 'Honest', sorry for that long wait but I'll be able to post it soon!) but I liked it just as a little awkward fluff. As always, please R&R, I love all kinds of feedback, even if they're flames or contain death threats. Well, maybe not death threats... oh well, do as your heart desires. Love you guys, thanks for reading!**


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